To Walk On Water
by Carry On
Summary: How long had they been sailing upon that strange sea, with her waiting for his trust? [One Shot] [AnzuxKaiba]


Oceans are one of the most mysterious places on earth. They are an open, endless plain without time, a placewhere an age cannot be attached to the never ending supply of water. Her nature is unpredictable. Humanity has never known what exactly lies underneath her ever moving skin, the pigment of a brilliant, deep blue and freckled with white, bubbly foam. The amount of knowledge one could have of the ocean's secrets and moods held the same with her parallel: what lay above in the sky could only be guessed. Whether it was what thrived in her or what she would drop, no one could ever foretell it accurately.

It is no wonder that whoever travels upon the sea, under the fickle moods of the ocean's counterpart, would be drifting with the feelings of defenseless and abandonment.

However, the secret sea that the two in the small rowboat had been sailing upon, she and her overhead neighbor had been different. Time stood at a standstill; the blue spread that was the sky was empty of anything, except for the sun, whose position never progressed from the set afternoon position. The water on which they floated was like most other oceans, warm to the touch, and as your hand splashed about in the water, you worried about what might come to nibble at it. Only when you looked down into the water, nothing but the glimmer of the sun's rays reflected off the surface.

And it is not up for debate among the experienced that most oceans had a salty tint to their rising breath. Yet again, this ocean proved to be drastically far away fromher sisters. When a breeze went by, displaying the exhaled air it had stolen, the light, burning sweet scent of peppermint could be removed and sampled.

It was not very had to understand that the atmosphere belonging to that particular worldin whichtwo travelers had been stranded made it very easy to forget oneself and one's memories. How the man had come to be there, trapped in the light colored, wooden rowboat with a girl in a white cotton dress, he did not recall. One thing about this trip thathe did was sure of was that the girl across from him had been rowing the whole trip; her features never betraying any sign of exhaustion. She ignored much except this task, only breaking her intent gaze occasionally to steal a glance at the surroundings.

Her wide blue eyes took in almost everything in those randomly placed peeks, they overlooked nothing but him.

---------------------------------

Once more, he stared at the girl on the other side. She was so close, yet she would never be fully reached. The oars swung around, another revolution completed, only to have to begin another. The next would lead into another, completing a round of an endless cycle, just as the world and her tenants would. Everything continued repeating a routine or behavior until it was stopped. At this simple conversation inside himself, the man scoffed. It was so simple that energy did need to be wasted on it.

He did not have the time for this. He could not waste moments of his life on a trip to nowhere, nor could he waste them with someone who wouldn't even pay him any mind. The man couldn't quite pin down the reason why he was so impatient to get out of the vessel, and it troubled him that he could not recall the answers he needed the most. All he could do was leave these questions with the unsatisfying excuse that 'he just was'.

Ever since he had entered this realm, the man couldn't seem to be able to remember anything, even though most of it was familiar. One frustrating thought was that he knew the girl; he recognized faintly the piece of brown, almost fading ember red, hair that fell across her determined face. He knew her, yet he could not come up with a name.

But the truth that disturbed him most was that he didn't know exactly who he was. There were memories hiding in his mind some place, memories that refused to show themselves even after he gave up. Who he was, and what he was were all lost, misplaced in the transition from the mainland to the rocking boat.

Though he was bothered by the whole matter of being on a strange sea, drifting along with persons he knew, yet didn't, the man began to push ahead what he felt more important. Where was the boat going? When would they arrive, and what would he need to do in order to support himself until he could get home?

Did he have a home?

"Where are we going?" He demanded, with as much force he could slip into his calm question. The girl's head in turn rose up, and she finally looked at him, her determined face morphing into a new expression. It was very similar to the face of a kind hearted teacher who had spent much too long trying to help a student learn something he wasn't interested in.

"How many times are you going to ask me that?" There was no hint of bitterness in her voice, only exhaustion.

He did not believe he had ever asked the question before. They hadn't even spoken to each other, he told himself. Was it a trick? Was she simply bored and had decided that toying with him would be entertaining?

He wasn't going to play her game.

"And what is this place again?"

"It's an island," Her attention had gone back to pushing the oars. "It's right behind you."

A moment slid by, if that could even take place, before he shot a glance over his shoulder. There was nothing. The man turned back, containing his sudden anger with the other passenger.

"There's nothing there."

"I knew it." The girl in the white dress sighed. Once more, she stopped the dancing of the oars. This time it was final, as if they had arrived on the shore of that island which had been right behind him; the one that wasn't there for him and had existed for her.

"You're denying it!" She yelled suddenly, the lightly sorrowful expession of before leaping to meet the newly arrived emotion inside her. Wide eyes, a slight, continuous tremor, and clenched fists were what had emerged. As she sat there, silently pleading for him to listen, he remained still, his own face retaining the cool, almost uninterested expression. He didn't really care what had caused her sudden mood, though it was odd to see someone that sensitive. And it was bothersome. He had other, more important things to do.

"You'd see the sand if you opened your eyes! You'd see the wind shaking the palms if you opened yourself to it," The shouting died down as the anger absorbed back into her skin to save up its energy for another time. Instead, what could be shown of her inner pain came as its replacement. She still stared at him, her strength not fading away. Tears were beginning to prepare their slide down her smooth cheeks. "If you would just see, then…"

Her teeth grabbed hold of her lower lip and her stare shifted slightly, bringing her stubborn, erect pose with it. One single choke was all that was manifested from her outburst, but the tears that would leak out from under eyes would never be able to be counted.

----------------------------

He didn't know how much time he had wasted by just waiting there, disgusted, for the girl to finish up her childish behavior. And yet he allowed her to go on. Nothing made sense, nothing but the way the tiny waves licked the sides of the collector's model boat come to life.

-----------------------------

Something snapped.

The girl shot up abruptly, tears still running down her face as if she were actually a stone fountain, resolution and a purpose on display once more. His blue eyes followed each finger remove itself from its position on the oar's handle. Their lids lifted as the oars dove under the curious blanket, maybe never to emerge again. He said nothing at first; he was gathering the correct words to say.

She stood still as the boat rocked back and forth trying to stabilize itself. He glared, wondering what she could be doing and was about to voice this question when her naked foot stepped over the side of the boat to touched the surface of the light-filled green, misty water.

"What the hell are you doing!" His hand gripped the side of the boat. As he leapt up, he noticed something unbelievable.

She was not falling through the water. That small, white foot was touching the still moving surface of the water as if it were simply a glass floor. Its twin soon joined it. The pair gracefully spun about so that their weeping owner could talk to the man in the boat. All he could focus on were those feet and how this was all somehow an illusion. It all had to be part of her sick game.

"Do you think I'm impressed?" He asked simply, adjusting his focus, sitting back down on the hard wood seat and crossing his arms upon his chest. His tone was clear and serious.

She didn't answer. The clear liquid dripped from hopeful eyes and into the smile she now released. Her bare arm rose up; the hand reaching out to him. The vision of her was so clear that all her beauty, normally hidden by the emotions that are supposed to bring it out, was overwhelming. He sat back, not reacting until he could make the situation clear.

"Come walk with me."

It was more of a request than a command. The passenger still aboard the vessel ignored the hand reaching for him.

"And where would we go?" He put as much bite as he possibly could in his question, so that she could be aware of how stupid he thought this whole business was. She sighed, the stream on her face glittering in the sun.

"This is the only way to get on to the island."

"The island doesn't exist," He stated matter-of-factly. He then added:

"And you would never get onto one by walking on water. That's impossible."

"Then what am I doing now?" The mild sweetness of her words mixed into his mouth as he inhaled the minty air.

"It's all just a trick; you're just standing on something."

She shook her head.

"Oh, Kaiba-kun."

Kaiba.

That was his name. How had he forgotten it?

"You'll get back everything once you stand on the sea."

The hand inched closer to make sure the statement had an impact on him.

"You won't fall in."

His arms remained crossed, and his glare didn't cease. It wasn't hard for the girl to see the disbelief on his face. She knew that it wouldn't be departing soon, yet she still tried to lure him out of the boat.

At each recitation of his name, and each time a reassurance was uttered, her arm fell closer. Her body bent slowly at the waist with each drop. With each degree lost, her whole body snapped away. He would blink and while his lids kissed, she jumped back as if playing a children's game.

Eventually, she had skipped far from the boat, and even if he wanted to, he could not grab her hand to pull her back in. It was lonely, as well as odd, to be there alone; not using the vessel for what it was intended to be.

It was so odd to be there alone.

Seeing her standing so clear in the distance, surrounded by a dreamy haze as her pose took on the form of a ballerina's, brought feelings he wished would go away. The most familiar feeling to visit him in that rocking cradle was Loneliness. He hadn't always met with her before; he could remember that now when a newly formed shadow sat on the wall of his prison, laughing for him. Loneliness was more of a nagging visitor. She would always tell him of how he could be rid of her. What she asked of him was that he let out his feelings more often, rather then just covering them up with anger, or resentment, or in the form of a favor owed.

It seemed the easiest cure was on the water, drifting towards her imaginary island. All he needed to do was trust her and step out of the boat. If his hand embraced hers, they could continue their journey towards the island. There was nothing more to the unspoken promise: he would have his memory, his life, and he would have _her_.

All that was needed was for him to uncross his arms and trust her; to pass his encouraging shadow on his way over the side of the boat.

All that was required of Seto Kaiba was to walk on water.

**End.**

I don't know if you guessed it or not, but I don't own Yuugiou. Hope you're not too disappointed.

As for the story, it was my first attempt at making an entire story into the metaphor of how I viewed the relationship between Anzu and Kaiba, with a dreamy type realm as the setting. Even though I've taken time to complete it as well as possible, I don't think I conveyed the point too well. I'll probably fix it eventually.

Please review, and if something needs repaired, please inform me about it.


End file.
